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Posted on:  Nov 9, 2016 @ 10:00 Posted in:  From the Tale
Excerpt from: Tale of the Lost Daughter
“I am waiting for you sweet one,” Hecate calls out softly, “Come, it is time, you are ready, you are ripe.”
At her feet a path materializes, hewn of red, granite, paving stones, flecked with tiny glimmers of silver light. In the far distance, the scarlet and amber flames of a hearth fire dance in a freshening wind that carries the smoky scent of burning, wood resin.
And then the dream vision fades, and I am staring into a flat, black plane that mirrors back Kayla and my merged reflections. Past and present fuse together.
“This is not just Kayla’s story,” I say, turning to Hecate, “It’s mine as well.”
“You see clearly Sarah,” Hecate says, “The surface details differ, but you and Kayla share the same underlying story: the tale of my lost daughter, who heeds the call of her aching soul and finds her way back to my living realm and ways. Nothing is lost that cannot be refound. New beginnings emerge from the darkest night of the soul.”
Posted on:  Nov 7, 2016 @ 10:00 Posted in:  Goddess
Two dreams, thirty years apart — a modern Goddess tale for these times.
I’m in my mid-twenties, with a business degree and a promising career in a blue chip company. My desires are purely materialistic — I want power and success in a man’s world. I don’t know any better, and I’ve no idea how immensely unhappy I am.
I have a dream that I don’t remember until many years later, yet my life is changed forever.
It’s a Winter Solstice eve, in the darkest hours of the night. Outside my apartment window, the world nestles down under a crystalline blanket of fresh-fallen snow. I dream of a silver shining path, as if hewn of moonlight, that leads me down, down, down to Hecate’s realm — the Goddess who is the Mistress of the crossroads, and guardian of our human destiny.
Deep in the belly of the Earth, Hecate directs me to Her magic cauldron and shows me the raw, naked truth of my life story — the beauty and the wounding — all that I’ve forgotten and denied, the very things I’ve been running hard from, and undreamed of possibilities sleeping just below the veneer of my waking reality.
Hecate gifts me with this crossroads moment, with my life laid bare before me, and asks me to choose how I will live for the rest of my days. I make a vow: to wake up, to remember, and to find my way home to my Self, my womanhood, and Her sacred ways.
By my choice, my destiny is woven.
Now, thirty years later, I’m lost no more. I’ve found my way home to my Self and the Goddess. I live nestled in the forest on a magical island with my beloved family and community, writing and teaching the life-changing ways of the Goddess that are now as natural to me as breathing.
I have another dream, within days of co-priestessing a community Samhain ritual to honor the beloved dead and the blessed newborn.
Posted on:  Nov 21, 2015 @ 10:00 Posted in:  From the Tale
Hecate passes Her right hand through the iridescent mist, gathering up musky droplets of condensation. Her fingers curl into a tight fist and then uncurl to reveal a single, jet black seed.
She presses the seed to Her lips, her eyes dreamy and seemingly lost in the afterglow of love making.
“This is the story seed of the master Tale of Creation,” Hecate says, “Of all the lost stories, it is the one I grieve the most. With its loss, you have forgotten the deepest, most exquisite parts of your human nature: that you were conceived, like all of Creation, from the ecstatic coupling of light and matter, and of God and Goddess; that love, the primal desire to create and nurture new life, is the very base of your essence; and that each of you has your own unique fragment of the Cosmos in your starlit core. These are the gifts that life has granted you and that you have squandered.”
The delicious heat leaves my body and I clutch at the power place in my solar plexus.
Posted on:  Nov 8, 2015 @ 10:00 Posted in:  From the Tale
“This is the story seed of the master tale of the Fall,” She says, “It reveals the second turning of humanity, and your descent from the good dream of your ancient ancestors into the bad dream of the worst instincts of your nature. My cauldron has given you but a small taste of the harm that your species has done to me, to the Mother Earth, and to each other.
“I see and name the terrible truths of the red-seed times, but I do not judge or condemn you. To find out who they truly are, children must try their strength and test their limits outside of the protecting arms and defining ways of their Mother. Your fall from the Garden, and your rejection of my presence and my mysteries, are natural steps in coming into your full maturity.
“It has been my hardest, most grievous task to stand back and let you find your own way, knowing that I could not protect you from the polarities and extremes of your own nature. For your kind has been blessed and cursed with the dual powers of creation and destruction, and the free will to choose whether to live by the laws of love or dominion. You chose destruction, dominion and fear, and your beast nature over your beauty.
“The master tale of the Fall also offers a wisdom teaching: everything that unfolds in matter has a purpose, even the worst of these red-seed tales of horror. Like a pearl born of the chafing of grit, you come into your full beauty and power through the chafing of life.”